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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063628">Can You Love Me With All My Scars?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph'>thenakednymph</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Monsters and Mana [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:02:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowan takes a leap of trust, trying to figure out where he and Pike stand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Monsters and Mana [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can You Love Me With All My Scars?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>More dnd flangst based on something that happened in my own campaign.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I need a bath," Rowan declares after they've found a place to camp. It's been a long day and they're all tired, covered in sweat and road dust and smelling like horse. Thankfully there's a river nearby and he's looking forward to using it. He’s starting to smell.</p><p>Pike lounges across the saddle horn, still astride his horse. </p><p>"Oo, can I watch?" he teases, wiggling his eyebrows.</p><p>Rowan smiles and rolls his eyes but otherwise doesn't respond. </p><p>"I'm not hearing a no!" Pike calls after him. </p><p>When Rowan still doesn't tell him to piss off, Pike gives his horse and encouraging nudge forward and follows. There are some jeers and whistles from behind them and Pike flips them the bird without looking back. </p><p>They're a short way from camp, close enough to shout for help if they need, but just enough cover between them to break line of sight. </p><p>Rowan's heart is hammering in his chest as he hears Pike’s horse draw near. He and Pike aren't really a thing, but they're not <em>not</em> a thing either. They've been protective of each other sure, but they're both dancing around making it a thing. Rowan is scared, but he needs to know how Pike will react. So he strips slowly out of his robes, unbraiding his hair to give him one last veil of safety. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look at Pike for a reaction, just strides into the river until he’s waist deep. </p><p>His breathing is ragged, skin flushed with heat as he pulls his hair forward over his shoulder. His hands are shaking as he wets it, trying to focus on scrubbing the dirt and sweat away. It’s hard to focus on anything other than Pike’s eyes on him.</p><p>Astride his horse Pike watches, breathless in horror at the expanse of scars marring Rowan’s back. He’s covered in them. </p><p>Pike has seen the smaller scars lacing all over his arms, like Rowan had tried to fend off a number of blows from his face but he didn’t know there were this many. </p><p>There are burns and lashes and small pockmarks all along Rowan’s back, the worst of them on the lower right, branching down to his hip and against his waist. It looks like he’d been whipped within an inch of his life. </p><p>The scar on his lower lip, his left ear, and his cheek take a dark turn. </p><p>Pike is frozen astride his horse as Rowan walks into the water. Horror freezes the sob in his throat, his eyes burning. </p><p>“Ro…”</p><p>He clenches the reins in his hands, palms damp as he steels himself and swings down off the horse. He gives her a good pat before stepping away, stripping out of his own clothes. He kicks them haphazardly to the side before walking into the water. He needs to touch Rowan. He doesn’t know why, but some primal part of Pike’s brain <em> has </em> to touch him.  </p><p>Rowan is wound tight, tension bunching his shoulders as he focuses solely on rinsing away the grime. Pike knows he can hear him. He’s making enough noise to make sure Rowan knows he’s there. The last thing he wants is to frighten him. Rowan’s hands fall still as Pike comes to a stop behind him close enough to touch. His fingers are white-knuckled around his hair.</p><p>The scars are even worse up close, raised and thick and textured. Pike lifts a hand out of the water, hesitating before lightly touching the worst of them. Rowan flinches and Pike pulls back. Water drips from his fingers as he waits, some of it dripping onto Rowan’s skin before he can pull far enough away. The rest drips down to the water’s surface or sliding down his arm. He bites his lip, waiting for some kind of sign that Rowan will let him continue. </p><p>His shoulders slowly relax as do the fingers holding his hair in a death grip. Pike takes it as permission and hesitantly touches the same scar. This time Rowan doesn’t flinch. He’s still tense and now Pike knows why he’s always been so withdrawn and hesitant to touch, but he doesn’t pull away.</p><p>PIke strokes over the edges of the old injury, from his lower back to the high points of his shoulders. There are <em> so </em> many. </p><p>Pike’s heart is breaking. What would ever cause someone to do this? </p><p>His breath hitches as he steps closer, one hand resting against Rowan’s hip in the ghost of a touch. The other traces out the edge of a lash close to his neck before he’s bending down, pressing his lips to the injury. </p><p>Rowan gasps but doesn’t push him away. Pike does it again, tracing out the injuries he can reach without dropping to his knees in the river, pressing his love into them. Because he <em> does </em> love Rowan. He just doesn’t know if it’s mutual and is afraid to ask. Even if it isn’t, Rowan deserves love. And Pike is willing to give it.  </p><p>After a moment he lets his hands rest on Rowan’s waist, forehead coming to touch the back of his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut and cries. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he chokes, his tears dripping onto Rowan’s back. Rowan shifts where he stands, keeping his balance but doesn’t tell Pike to leave. </p><p>“Wasn’t your fault,” Rowan whispers. </p><p>Pike lifts his head, palm sliding over the scars. “Who did this to you?” Tears drip from his chin as he pulls back. He covers them with a hand, fingers spread wide. “Why?” </p><p>Rowan’s head turns slightly towards him. “Where I’m from…” he rasps, “magic is a curse. It’s evil.” He takes a deep breath and Pike feels the way it rattles through him. Every word is slow, like it hurts to say them. </p><p>“When I started showing signs as a child I was given to the priests. As every child with the curse is.” </p><p>Pike’s hands twitch, like he can somehow reach back through time to stop it from happening. He sniffles, squeezing his eyes closed.</p><p>“What happened?” Pike thinks he knows but he has to ask. </p><p>Rowan finally turns to face him revealing the tears on his cheeks and the expanse of scars all along his chest, more than one branching dangerously over his throat. </p><p>Pike covers his mouth with a hand, smothering a sob. </p><p>“They tried to beat it out of me,” Rowan whispers. </p><p>The scars are so pale with age Pike is afraid to ask. But some sick part of him has to know. He’s dizzy with fear, stomach curled into knots so tight and complex he’s afraid he’s going to be sick.</p><p>“H-how old…?” His throat feels thick, tongue too big for his mouth and he drags in a wet breath.</p><p>Rowan’s nostrils flare and his mouth trembles. “Six.” </p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>Pike’s knees give way with a sob and Rowan catches him to keep him from slipping and going under. Pike wraps his arms around him and cries, the sound lost against the scars to the side of Rowan’s throat. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he chokes. “I’m sorry- Ro.” He can’t get anything else out, just the fractured nickname and a bitter apology. </p><p>Pike trembles and sobs, grieving for what’s been done to him. “You didn’t deserve this.” </p><p>Rowan presses a hand between Pike’s shoulders over his own scars, trying to pull the sorrow out of him. </p><p>“I know,” he soothes. “I know.” </p><p>Pike shudders, wet fingers scrabbling over Rowan’s skin. He flinches when they catch on the scars and he pulls away. </p><p>Rowan jerks away from him at the reaction, hands hovering in the air between them. “You hate them.” Fear presses his eyebrows together and he takes a step further back into the water, the rejection stinging. </p><p>“Of course I hate them.” There’s horror in Pike’s eyes as he stares at Rowan’s chest which only drives him further away. </p><p>“I-” Rowan's eyes are wide. He’d expected the rejection but it still hurts. “Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea.” He crosses his arms over his chest, curling into himself and looking away. “I’m sorry. I know they’re ugly. I just-“ He sinks further into the water until it’s lapping over his chest, hiding the scars.</p><p>“What?” Pike stares at him dumbfounded. </p><p>Rowan is so withdrawn and small. “I’m sorry,” he cries. “I know it’s too much. And it’s okay. I know no one wants me like this.”</p><p>Pike feels like he’s been slapped, a bolt of ice striking through him from his head to his feet, riveting him in place.</p><p>“Ro…” he touches Rowan’s shoulder and he flinches away, like he’s afraid of the tenderness. Like he expects to be slapped instead. Pike feels that same horror curl around his heart, the pain digging into him like thorns. </p><p>His fingers ghost over Rowan’s cheek. “Rowan, look at me,” he whispers. “Please.” </p><p>Rowan lifts his head, wet hair sticking to his face. He looks more scared than Pike has ever seen him. And Rowan isn’t afraid of <em> anything. </em> </p><p>“Of course I hate them,” Pike murmurs, cupping Rowan’s face in both hands when he flinches again, trying to pull away. He ducks his head, trying to catch Rowan’s eyes. </p><p>“I would hate <em> anyone </em> who would do this to you,” he whispers. Tears slip freely down his cheeks. “It doesn’t mean I hate <em> you</em>. How could-” He swallows the accusation. “Rowan, I’m in love with you,” he whispers, thumbs stroking over his mottled cheeks. “You are not ugly or hideous, or unwanted because of this.” His hand touches one of the scars over his chest, over his heart. </p><p>“Of course I still want you.” His other hand gently moves the tangle of hair from Rowan’s face. </p><p>Pike sees it in Rowan’s eyes the moment he breaks. The glass structure he’s built out of every fear, every insecurity, shatters. It falls around him like a collapsing tower, nothing left to hide behind. He’s so raw and vulnerable and Pike kisses his cheek, his temple, his ear, any part of him he can reach as the raw acceptance Pike is offering shakes him to the core. </p><p>Rowan puts his arms around Pike’s shoulders, sobbing against his throat. He opens himself to the love Pike is offering, every terrifying inch of it, and lets himself love him back. </p>
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